Testing Propriety
by binnibeans
Summary: On route to Edinburgh, America and England trade off a few … remarks involving shorts and just how comfortable they may or may not be.


**A/N:** For **usxuk**'s Summer Camp event! (In case you're wondering, I did do Day 06. I just did fanart, and remembered why it is I do fic instead of art.)

Day 07: Aviation

_Keep 'em flying! Aviation is the theme here. You are welcome to use planes, but you do not have to. ANY airborne device is okay- windsails, hot air balloons, blimps, etc. Just as long as aviation is somehow featured; whether it's aviation clothing they're wearing, or they're in a craft, or whatever._

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><p>When he'd seen England jump into his plane, America had to do a double-take. He understood that sometimes uniforms were a little odd. (All one had to do was take a look at France's old uniform.) But….<p>

Shorts. _Shorts_. Of all things, _shorts_.

What uniform deigned shorts appropriate attire? There wasn't anything _wrong_ with them, they just didn't seem like they'd be … used as part of a uniform. If anything, it was … really distracting. Really, _really_distracting.

So now, flying his own biplane up to Scotland with England flying not too far away, he just _had_to comment on it. The rumble from the engine was thrilling through him pleasantly, and combining that with thoughts of England in his shorts…. It wasn't a good combination at all, and trying to think of different things wasn't helping an entire lot. He could feel heat gathering under his collar.

He'd radio him. He fixed his goggles in a hope to deflect the piercing rays of the setting sun to deflect (only partially helpful), and squinted to tune his radio to the right channel. Finally he found the right frequency, cleared his throat, and asked,

"What's up with the shorts? Over."

After switching his receiver, America held it in his hands, awaiting England's reply. It took the other a moment to respond, but when he did, at least it was in fun. (Sometimes, it was the most random of things that earned America a tongue-lashing. Even the most innocent!)

"_What's wrong with them?_" came the reply. "_Do you not like them? I thought you might. Over."_

America felt a tentative grin spread over his face. Recently, he and England had started playing something of a game. Something little more than just friendly, and he made it sound like wearing the shorts was on purpose. It was a horrible, yet wonderful, game. Of course, with the end of the war on the horizon, and things starting to look up, who could blame either of them?

He snickered to himself, picturing England sitting in his cockpit, shorts riding up jusssst slightly. America's cheeks burned just a little more. "Never said I didn't like them. Just wondering what … made you want to wear them." He paused. "Over."

He set the receiver down, unzipping his jacket. Who knew one could get so warm in higher altitudes? A buzz of static heralded England's coming response.

"_I find that they're much more comfortable. Especially having to sit in this cockpit, riding in such a tiny space. I'm much more at ease. I have more … maneuverability. Although…._" He hesitated for a moment, shutting of communication for a second. He was probably laughing. "_I think you'd agree, it does, ah…. Press, a bit. Over._"

With just a few seconds having passed, America's face matched the red of the sunset. _Press a bit_. He'd show him _pressing a bit_. (In _so many different ways—_) He coughed. "S-sounds uncomfortable, over." _He_ was feeling uncomfortable. Screw England and his _pressing shorts_.

"_I am thinking of switching back to proper trousers, though. It's a bit too airy for my liking. …You sound like_you're_the one in discomfort, America. Are you all right? Over._"

America took a bit of a breath, then said, "I'm good! Thinking I should see about getting me some. I'd ask if I could try yours out first, but I think I'm a bit too big. They'd press a lot more. Over."

At first, America thought he'd succeeded, but then found he'd only stirred up some more issues of his own.

"_No, that's fine; they're a bit stretched out by now. You might be able to squeeze into them, actually. I can always borrow one of my brother's kilts. (The only thing that worries me is the lack of proper underwear that comes with wearing a kilt.) I don't mind giving you the once-over in the shorts, though. Over._"

This would be the longest flight from London to Edinburgh ever, but at least America could entertain himself with thoughts of _him_ being the one to give England a _once over_.

"Sure thing! Over."

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><p>END<p>

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><p>|Db Heheheheheheh.<p> 


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